


Assume Nothing

by ElwenTheTimeComes



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Denial, Don't really know how far this will go, F/F, Romance, Unusual ship to start with but why not, first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwenTheTimeComes/pseuds/ElwenTheTimeComes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Elrond and some of his folks decide to pay a visit to the elves of the Woodland Realm to talk business, and perhaps more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Young Red Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm new here, I decided to make my own account and start writing recently, because I have been reading so many great fanfictions lately and I thought I'd give it a try myself. It's probably not the finest piece of writing ever, but eh I have to start somewhere.  
> I don't know why I decided to start with this F/F ship, but this story will probably be a short one, to get me started. I think I will spend some more time later on on some M/F fanfics, probably with Thranduil. I don't have that much time to write because of my studies, but I'll try and keep it coming if anyone likes it!  
> This is the first chapter, so Tauriel and Arwen have never met for the moment, This is a bit of a prologue, and underlines the fact that Tauriel really isn't suspecting what (or rather who) is coming.  
> By the way English isn't my first language so I apologize if I've made any mistakes.  
> I'll leave you to it now, please proceed :)

 

 

The young Captain of the Guard was standing in front of her wardrobe, early in the morning. In one hand she held her uniform and in the other one a dark blue and silver gown. She did not know whether she ought to wear her traditional, work-related outfit or something more classy and lady-like. She looked upon her gown. Lord Elrond would arrive today with a few other people from Rivendell; she had been looking very forward to it, and wanted to make a good impression, hence the gown. However, in another corner of her mind, she also knew the reason for Lord Elrond’s coming to the Woodland Realm; the growing presence of evil –especially spider and orcs- across the realm had started to make many elves all over Middle Earth grow concerned. She thus felt like her green and brown outfit with her leather bodice would be a better fit for the situation, and a rightful assertion of her status. So she put it on.

  
Flashback

  
She had already had the pleasure of meeting Lord Elrond before, a couple hundred years ago. The young elleth that she was then was merely a fresh member of the guard, and had not yet experienced all of the ordeals which proved her worthy of being the captain she is now.

Nevertheless, her being a member of the guard had been enough for her to meet Lord Elrond face to face once during his stay. Being the young elleth that she was, she had almost run into him as he was taking a walk with Thranduil through the many hallways of the palace. She was late for training and worried of the consequences that might fall. Her great stealth had not been in her advantage that day for the King and the Lord had not heard her coming, absorbed as they were by their conversation.

She suddenly forgot all that had been weighing on her mind when, after a sharp turn, she found herself in a dangerous proximity with Lord Elrond as she stopped just in time to avoid literally running into him. A whole lot of new, more serious worries invaded her, and her face suddenly lost all colours as she dropped to one knee, with her head down.

“Hir-nin, Aran-nin, I– I feel most sorry. I present to you my sincerest apologies. I never meant to... This will never happen again.” The King crossed his arms and let out a long sigh.

After five seconds of suspended silence that felt like an eternity, the red elf realised she could hear her own heartbeat throbbing and wondered if the two other elves could, too. Gathering all of her courage, Tauriel looked up, still on one knee, for she felt she would rather face the wrath of the two standing elves than their silence. But all she saw on Lord Elrond’s face was a kind, amused smile.

“I do not believe we have had the pleasure to be formally introduced” he said in a soft tone.

“Well, in that case,” announced Thranduil, “Lord Elrond, this is Tauriel, one of our youngest, most promising recruits. That is, when her behaviour and attitude do not get in the way of her talents.” He smirked and discreetly winked at her. The young elleth felt a shy smile form on her lips.

“The Daughter of the Forest!” He turned to the King. “So she is the one you rescued and took in as one of your own some four hundred years ago.” He turned back to her. “Well, rise, my child! We would not want you hurting that precious knee, would we?” He said, holding out his hand.

She thanked him and got up on her feet. “My King has been but too kind to welcome and raise me as one of his own” she said, looking at the tall blond elf with eyes full of admiration.

“I have children, too. You seem like a very bright and unusual young elf. I think you would like them, and them, you.” He took a lock of her hair in his hand with great caution, as if he was afraid it might break. “A very rare colour... You should be proud. Then again, I have no doubt that you are. A red female warrior... You are with no doubt worthy of your name.” He let her hair back down on her shoulder with the same thoughtfulness with which he had taken it.

Tauriel’s face was now redder than it should be, and she struggled to hold back a smile. She bowed and thanked Elrond. The King gave her a rewarding look, before his smirk turned into an accurate remark. “Don’t you have a training session to go to this morning?”

The young elf’s mouth suddenly dropped agape and they started laughing. She bowed once more and wished them a good day, which they wished back, before running off in her usual swift, stealthy way.

  
End of Flashback

  
Her braids done, her outfit on and her two daggers by her waist, Tauriel had joined Legolas for breakfast. None of them ate much, for both of them were looking very forward to the arrival of their guests, and knew that the meal they would share then would be exquisite. However, it would be fair to say that their excitement was more of a reason not to eat than their concern over the room they ought to leave in their stomachs.

“Oh my,” said Legolas as Tauriel sat down in front of him.

“What”?

“Well, it seems you’re really putting your mind to this whole thing. I mean, look at those braids! You usually do them in a hurry. Don’t roll your eyes, I know you” he said with a smirk.

“Thank you very much blondie, but I always take care of my hair.”

“Right.” He raised an eyebrow, and as a result she kicked him under the table. “Someone’s got an attitude!” They both laughed.

“I came here for a little heads up. You know I’ve met Elrond before, but I’ve never met anyone else from Rivendell. Is there anything in particular I need to know?”

“Don’t run into them.” She gave him a punch on the shoulder. “Ouch!” He threw an almond at her. “No, nothing in particular, I mean... Most of them will be of high rank, but... They are really kind people, generally speaking. Really refined, as well.”

“So, the best thing to do would be for us not to see one another while they’re here, or else they’ll think we’re complete monkeys” she jested.

“Maybe it would be for the best” he replied, giggling.

Tauriel had always had a very strong bond with Legolas. They were always together growing up, and their relationship was good as that of siblings. They shared everything, never judged and always protected one another, regardless of their ranks.

“I heard that this time, Lord Elrond is bringing his children along.

“He is” Legolas slowly sat back as an overdone smile came up on his face. “You’re going to meet Princess Arwen. Sweet, sweet Arwen. She truly is a beauty. You’re going to have some serious competition, dear” he chuckled.

“Well, maybe, but...” she picked up an almond and slowly brought it to her mouth, highly exaggerating the sensuality of her action, “To be honest, I mostly heard of her brothers. And ...” She suddenly bit the almond, letting out a loud snapping noise on purpose, “I heard there are two of them.”

They laughed at their silliness for a while longer, before they decided it was about time they went to join the King for the final preparations.


	2. Can't seem to think straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond, his children and other Rivendell folks finally arrive to Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a while, but I've been pretty busy lately. I can't promise when the next chapter will arrive, I love to write but I have lots of exams planned at this time of the year...  
> English is still not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake I might have made!

 

                Everything was in place now. Inside the large doors of the Elvenking’s hall, the feast was set –people had been cooking and cleaning and ornamenting the place for days. Every last elf had been making his or her best efforts to make a good impression on their soon-to-be guests, and many of them had dressed the part, even those of most modest status. Soft singing could be heard echoing through the halls, much lower and more painful than that which could be heard in Rivendell, but beautiful in its own way. The contrast between Rivendell and Mirkwood was often striking to strangers; however they remained elvish cultures and thus had many similar features that strongly distinguished them from dwarvish or human ones. Moreover, this form of otherness only made these different elves more eager to meet and the merrymaking merrier.

                For now the gates were closed. The King and a few other elves were waiting for their guests outside. On either side of him stood Tauriel and Legolas, proud to be by the King’s side not only as children but as commendable warriors. Only about five more guards were outside with them. Fifteen members of the guard had been sent out to ensure the guests’ foolproof arrival, however the waiting trio was feeling confident for every last spider nest had been destroyed and the forest had been kept clean for some time now to guarantee the protection of all.

                Tauriel felt proud and held her head high next to her King. She felt most confident this morning and was looking forward to meeting Lord Elrond once more. How proud he would be, how great she had turned out to be! She was no longer the somewhat insecure elleth that she had been on their first encounter.

Now, she was openly acknowledged as one of the best warriors in the kingdom.

She was the Captain of the Guard.

She was strong, steadfast, confident, determined.

She knew where her life was going.

 

                The excitement had been building up and came to its climax as a group could now be seen coming forth. The elves leading the procession –Elrond and his children– rode white horses. All of the members of the small procession, about twenty of them, were dressed in white or other light colours that made them stand out from the Silvan elves accompanying them, and more generally from the entire scenery.

                Elrond was at front, and his three children followed him. The two twins were on each side of their sister, herself riding exactly behind her father, making her entirely concealed to their awaiting hosts. Tauriel immediately noticed the two handsome brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. Or Elrohir and Elladan. She had no idea yet, and neither did the King nor Legolas when she asked them, even though they had already met the twins. They had their father’s features and there was thus something very respectable and intelligent about them. But they were also visibly much younger, their faces not yet marked by wisdom nor pain. As she was scrutinizing them, the black haired brother on the left met her gaze and, scrutinizing her back, gave a broad smile. She felt her cheeks slightly blush but she did not lose her sense of priorities, and turned to her King when he asked her and Legolas to stay while he went meet their guest halfway, as usual, in order to allow for the two leaders to meet first.

                The three children and their father got off their horses which were then taken to the stables by some Silvan guards. Thranduil and Elrond embraced, before each brother bowed to the King. Finally, Arwen came out from behind her father and bowed as well before Thranduil took her hand and gently kissed it. Upon seeing the princess, Tauriel felt a sudden tightening of her throat. Arwen was dressed in a white and silver gown similar to that which Tauriel had seen many times before, but that seemed to particularly strike out thanks to her harmoniously built figure. Her hand, still held out for the King, showed the fairness of her white skin. Her face was just as fair, if not more thanks to her delightful smile. Her thick black hair was topped with a small silver crown. However, words could not even begin to compare to the vision that Tauriel was experiencing.

“Tauriel?” a voice said in the distance.

She could feel something building inside of her, something she did not know, something that felt both greater and more dreadful than any opponent she had ever faced. Yet, maybe she was becoming a bit of a masochist, but the feeling wasn’t altogether unpleasant to her.

She felt a nudge. “Tauriel, are you still with us?” She blinked and turned to where the voice came from. It was Legolas’, of course.

“I thought we lost you right there” he chuckled.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know... You kind of went stiff-like, your breathing got slightly louder, and your eyes completely stopped moving, as if you were gazing into space...” His eyes went to the group of guests that were now slowly walking towards the palace behind Thranduil, then back to her, and then back to them again. “Fancying a sibling already, aren’t we?”

“No I’m not” she snapped back.

“Hey, don’t get all defensive!” he giggled and slightly raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying, you’ve never looked at me this way...”

                Before she could give any more thoughts into what Legolas had just said to her, the King nodded to her and she commanded two of the guards to open the gates. When she turned back, Thranduil and the guests were now only feet away. She and Legolas bowed.

                After very formal greetings during which she tried not to stare at the princess too much –not only was she anxious one could notice, but she also dreaded the symptoms she experienced while gazing, Lord Elrond softened up to her and they discussed much until they arrived to the throne room.

                All along the way towards the depths of the halls, Tauriel felt the ungovernable desire to turn around and look, but she feared the beauty behind her would fade if she did. Nevertheless, she could feel a gaze on her shoulder as she talked with Elrond, although she could not say who it came from.

                Once in the commodious throne room, Thranduil explained that the feast would begin shortly, but that beforehand, guests would be shown to their chambers. The guests were quickly led to their chambers, each by both a servant and a guard that would remain with them or about their room for the stay. At last Elrond and his children were the only guests left in the room. The King invited the remaining visitors to follow him deeper, towards the richest part of the halls where he had his room and a few others reserved to his exceptional guests. Tauriel herself had seldom gone this far, at least not officially. But she knew her way around.

                They came to a halt in the middle of a noteworthy hallway, where two doors were facing one another. The King invited Elladan and Elrohir to each take position in one of the rooms, and called out for two more guards and servants.

                At the end of another hallway stood a larger door on which the wood had been skilfully carved and painted in places with gold and silver, and decorated with small gems in others.

“This room is for you, Lady Arwen” said Thranduil slightly bending forward as he used to out of respect and politeness. The princess thanked him. “Naruon!” he called out.

                Naruon was a friend of Tauriel’s and one of the best warriors within the guard –that is, after her of course. Not only was he skilful and intelligent, but he was kind as well. Tauriel had no doubt he would take good care of the princess. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

“Actually,” suddenly said Arwen, “I would like for Tauriel to be in charge of my safety and welfare during my stay. I... I have never met a female warrior before and I would like to know some more about her. If this is not a problem.”

Elrond smiled at his daughter’s proposal. “I think it would be an excellent idea. I was curious, too, on our first meeting. You two girls must have a lot to tell each other. Tauriel?”

                She suddenly felt all eyes on her, waiting for an answer. She usually loved the attention, but now it felt different. She eventually was able to state an answer. “I would be honoured to.”

“Alright then” said the King. “A servant should be here shortly. If you are looking for us, we will be just around the corner. My Lady, please use this chamber as if it were your own. Tauriel will show you the way to the feast when you are ready." Thranduil, Elrond and Legolas bowed before turning around and proceeding on, eventually disappearing at a turn. The girls silently watched them leave. Tauriel could once more hear her own heart throbbing, and wondered if the other elf could, too.

Arwen broke the silence. “Thank you for accepting to watch me. I like it better to have another woman with me.” The princess was almost as tall as the guard, and their eyes naturally connected. Tauriel was trying to speak but for some reason her throat was dry again, and she only managed to smile and nod. Arwen smiled back. Tauriel felt an inner start when Arwen kindly took her hand into hers. “I won’t be long.” She let go and vanished into the room.

                A few seconds after the door closed, Tauriel let out a sigh and leaned back on the door.

                She looked down at her hands. They were fidgeting.

                She never fidgeted.


	3. The Sycamore, the Moon and the Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast in honour of the guests takes place, but Tauriel doesn't quite seem to be enjoying it as much as she usually does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long, and I know I published two oneshot in the meantime.  
> I got a sudden rush of inspiration this weekend, so I have pretty much planned the whole story now, and my exams are behind me now, so I should have a lot more time. In a nutshell, the next chapters should be much quicker to arrive.  
> As always, please forgive any language mistakes I may have made (especially since I tried to use several registers concerning languages, because of the different social status/relationship of some characters).  
> I hope you enjoy!

            Tauriel had never noticed the way the pillars in the ballroom seemed to go up without end towards the distant ceiling, nor had she ever really paid attention to the intricate carvings that ornamented them from bottom to top, like ivy spiralling ever upwards. She had never considered how the leaf shaped mouldings on the doorframes –including the one she was standing right next to, as usual- represented the endless and beautiful cycle of the four seasons, each type of leaf depending on the one that came before and allowing for the next one to thrive. It reminded her of her King’s crowns and how he had one for each season. But tonight, as she had noted, he was not wearing one of his usual leafy crowns but had decided to wear his radiant, small silver wreath, that was much like that of Elrond. The two elves were sitting in great chairs at the far end of the room, drinking wine, and occasionally taking a moment to stand up and share a dance with someone, when they fancied so. She observed that she could hardly tell the Rivendell elves from her own folks in the crowd of the ball, and this somehow filled her with delight. The merrymaking was now in full swing, and couples could be seen gently spinning and whirling around the room, blond and brown locks of hair mingling in soft and warm harmony. The general mood was at its height, and even Tauriel could almost feel that she was starting to let the general flow and smoothness sink in, and her face slowly relaxed.

            She noticed the tall and fine ellon that slowly made his way from across the room and came to stop before her, holding out his hand.

            “May I have the honour of this dance?” asked one of Elrond’s sons.

            “My Prince, I hope you will forgive my declining of your proposal, but I am on duty tonight, as you can see by my absence of gown.” She replied.

            “I saw nothing but the fairness of your face that, I would say, did beckon to me from across the room.” He added with a gallant smile.

            Tauriel suddenly felt unsettled. She who usually always had something to answer back had never been acquainted to this scenario. She usually always had something sharp to answer back to anyone, and had long trained this ability with Legolas during their banter, but this situation seemed to throw her off. She did not feel overly shy or bashful, and she did not feel what she had felt earlier on in her insides, but when she opened her mouth words did take a few seconds to come out.

            “I do not think, my Prince, that it would be becoming of you to be seen dancing with one of the guards, and I do not think that the King would approve of my dancing tonight with you.” She finally said.

            The glimmer in the twin’s eyes seemed to slowly fade, yet his stare remained for a few moments on the elleth’s face, respectfully dissecting her face with his stare, regarding with doubled attention the shape and colour of her eyes, the curve of her cheekbones, and every last inconspicuous freckle that sprinkled her face.

            Trying to avoid his stare –although she did not find it altogether unpleasant- she looked over his shoulder. This is when she saw it. Thranduil sat down after one of his dance and she saw Legolas rise in his place, take the Princess’ hand upon the suggestion of both his father and hers, and lead her out to dance. She had done her utmost not to think of Arwen during the whole evening –whether it be during their moment alone from her room to the feast, during the banquet or during the ball-, which had even led her to architectural discoveries, and now everything around her collapsed once more when she saw the other elleth taking Legolas’ arm with a coy smile. The sensation in her bosom caught fire again, and her hand sprung out to meet the Prince’s.

            “Yet, how could I possibly be so rude as to decline your offer? After all, you are our guest of honour, and I doubt the King would be one to oppose to the happiness of his guests.” She told him as her gaze slowly went from Arwen, in the distance, to her brother, right in front of herself. “If you will still have me.”

            “I gladly will.” He said as a broad smile regained his face.

 

            The precious and slow melody of a harp started filling the air, creating a strong contrast with what had been playing beforehand. The tall ellon gently placed his hand on Tauriel’s hip, and she placed hers on his shoulder.

            “I must admit that I feel much sorry, but I do not know which of Elrond’s sons you are.” Said Tauriel, sounding embarrassed.

            The ellon have a soft laugh. “It is alright, we are twins after all. I am Elrohir, and my brother is Elladan. There are not many ways to tell us apart, and many people still confuse us, sometimes even Father.”

            “Oh. I promise I will try my best not to get your name wrong. I would hate to mistakenly go to your brother and start talking to him as if I knew him and we had shared a dance.”

            “Do not worry, I do not think he would take it to heart. He would let you know soon enough that you are mistaken, if you do not notice so first yourself.”

            “How do you mean?” she asked.

            “Well, you are not exactly my brother’s type.” Tauriel raised an eyebrow. “Let us say that Elladan would rather dance with your brother, if you had one.”

            “I see. I have no brothers, but I am sure that Elladan should and will find a suitable dance partner.” She ensured him.

            Suddenly her mind jumped to Naruon, her friend and fellow member of the guard, who had recently told her about the nature of his general attraction. She remembered feeling so glad for him when he had told her, and she had then asked herself who in his right mind would possibly find fault in his nature.

            And yet, here she was, dancing with the Prince, hating herself. This felt wrong in so many ways. The handsome –for she reckoned he was handsome- and sweet Elrohir had asked her out for a dance, and now that she was there with him, she realised that she had stopped paying attention to anything that he said. She could still hear his voice but no longer the words. She found herself gazing at his face, making out all of the features that reminded her of the Princess. He did share a number of features with his sister, and for that she admitted that she found him beautiful. But beyond that, conversely to his sister, she found that he stirred nothing within her. She wanted him to, she wanted to be attracted to him. But all she could see in his face was a reminder of Arwen, whom she had been trying to avoid all night long. Closing her eyes only made matters worse, for in her mind his face completely disappeared to show his sister’s, and Tauriel could imagine Arwen’s left hand on her own right hip, her grey doe eyes smiling and her full lips slightly parted.

            Finally the music stopped. Before the Prince could ask for another dance, Tauriel quickly curtseyed before departing. She left the ball room and headed straight for the nearest garden. She could feel a kind of grogginess coming over her, and she needed some fresh air.

            She flung open the doors to the garden, letting in a rush of air, and she inhaled deeply. She opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings to make sure she was alone. She was. She exhaled.

            She walked out to the middle of the garden, and sat in the grass, leaning on a strong yet young tree, the only one in the garden. She put one of her palm against the tree bark and shut her eyes, listening. The night was still, the wind scarce, and the only disturbance she could hear was coming from afar, within the palace. She rubbed her thumb against the uneven bark of the tree, and after a moment leaned her forehead against the sycamore. She realised how much she liked the cold touch of it, and how she could almost feel it breathe and get stronger with each second. She opened her eyes and looked up towards its summit through the branches. The moon was full and low tonight, lightening the garden up as if it was daytime. She saw a black and red bird high up in the tree, and it looked back down at her. Suddenly the wind turned and the bird flew away, up and into the night. Tauriel’s hand instinctively went to her dagger, before recognizing the familiar paces coming from behind her.  She smiled, still with her back turned to the oncoming elf.

            “What are _you_ doing here?” she asked.

            “I saw you taking off. I left you alone for a few minutes, I know you. But I just came to check up on you.” he said.

            “I’m fine, Leggy.”

            “If I listened to you, I’d believe you always are. Come on.”

            She turned around to face him, and he sat next to her, leaning against the tree as well. She wrapped her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder. For a long while they said nothing and stared at the moon. Legolas knew that silence was often the perfectest of heralds for Tauriel, and that she found it more soothing than any conversation. And, over the years, he had learned to interpret her silences better than anyone else.

            After a satiating silence, Tauriel let go of Legolas’ arm and looked up to meet his stare. A small tear was forming like a pearl in her eyes and eventually ran down her cheek. He gently rubbed it off and kissed her on the forehead. “Come on now.” He said. “The feast will soon be over, and guests will need to be seen to their chambers, you know, just in case... Well, just in case goblins learnt a way to teleport inside of the palace just for the sake of our pretty hair.”

            Tauriel giggled. She loved that Legolas knew her so well, that he knew that she hated being vulnerable. She only was with him, because he knew exactly how to handle it. She thanked Eru for ever sending so dear a friend.

            “Oh, and Arwen asked for you. She apparently has a favour to ask.” he told her.

            “Couldn’t you say so sooner?”

            “Nope. She specifically said that she could wait, if you were... busy.” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

            They both laughed. “Right.” She added. She got up. “Aren’t you coming?”

            “I’m going to stay here a bit. I won’t be long.”

            “Alright.” She started walking away.

            “Fly, fly, little lovebird!” he said after her.

            “Leggy, you can just be so thick sometimes!” she replied, chuckling.

 

            Legolas watched the red head walk away, past the garden doors and back inside the palace. He sighed. He was a great many things, but he certainly wasn’t thick. He knew more about Tauriel than anyone else, having been at her feet for about as long as she had come into his life. He might even know her better than she knew herself. His last words had never been concerning her and the Prince.

            He felt glad to see Tauriel finally in love, no matter who it was with. And if he could help her be happy, even if that happiness did not involve him, he most definitely would.

 


	4. Militat omnis amans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel has accepted to give Arwen private (combat) lessons, and so they meet up for the first session on the morning after the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I am so very sorry for the lateness of this chapter, but things have been kind of crazy lately, I had to move, and then I went somewhere with my family for the holidays -in short, I did not have the internet for a long time. By some miracle I have managed to get some internet right now, so I am taking advantage of it and publishing the 4th chapter. I had to rewrite it because my computer deleted the first version, but here it is! I already know what is going to happen in the next chapter and have already started to write it. I hope I won't be prevented from publishing it this time, so you don't have to wait half as long!  
> Hope you enjoy! (and, English is still not my first language, so I apologize for any possible mistake)

           “Come again” said Tauriel, switching hands with her staff in one smooth move, taking a few steps back, and casually nodding down towards the staff that had come falling on the floor moments before.

            Without letting Tauriel out of her sight –for one must not let his opponent out of his sight during a fight, of course-, Arwen carefully picked up her staff and got ready for yet another round. Neither of them would, as always, make a direct and straightforward starting move, and so they both paced around in a circle, staring deep into each other’s eyes with acute concentration, all senses awake, waiting for the other to plunge forward.

            Then, as if spurred by a common momentum, both elves closed the distance and the staves collided, prudently at first, before their rhythm and intensity escalated.

            Tauriel had to admit that Arwen was not such a weak opponent, and that she most definitely underwent training before. This was not the princess’ first time handling a weapon. There was little doubt in Tauriel’s mind that Arwen had been personally trained by her father. The princess was pulling off a good fight round after round, attacking, dodging, blocking, countering, attacking again. But in the end she was no match for the Captain of the Mirkwood guard, who always eventually ended up disarming her, but without ever touching the princess directly of course.

            Arwen let out a sigh. “It’s been almost two hours now. Why do we keep training with the staves?”

            “Because you asked for me to give you some close combat training, and staff training is the first step if you want some solid bases.”

            “I know that” said Arwen in a soft tone. “But I know my bases, I’ve done my fair share of staff training when I was younger. Now, I’m much more used to wielding actual weapons. And anyway, I could train all week with that staff, I still would not stand a chance against the all-mighty captain.” she said, smiling.

            _Flattery is not the way to get there, Princess_ thought Tauriel. She took a reflective pose. She usually had no objections to using real weapons with a student once he was ready, and Arwen had proven that she was quite a skilled student. But she felt worried. Worried that for some reason, something might go wrong in some way, and that Arwen would end up hurt (and this had nothing to do with Arwen being female, because although they were few, she had trained other female students before).

            Although Tauriel had tried to remain professional, Arwen could see a glimmer of concern in her eyes. A smile unconsciously drew up on her lips. “Don’t worry, Captain, I won’t hurt you” she said jokingly. “Please?”

            _Okay now, that might just do it_ thought the captain. She felt relieved by the attitude of the princess. _And just look at those eyes... Dammit Tauriel, staring. You’re staring. Snap out of it._ By now Tauriel realized she had a smile across her face. “But of course, Princess.” She went to pick up the staves. “If you’ll let me go and pick our weapons, I’ll be right back.” She turned around and walked to the end of the room where some various weapons were stored.

 

            _Was she staring? I think she was staring. No, she wasn’t. Of course she wasn’t. You’ve spent so much time having your family, servants and people fawning and congratulating you over your looks that now you tend to mistake all types of stares for admiration and interest._ thought the black-haired elleth as she watched the other elleth walking away and then looking through the diverse array of weapons.

            Arwen was glad she had asked Tauriel for private lessons. The King had ensured her that Tauriel would have no objection to such a favour, and Legolas had confirmed so as well as they were dancing; and so, after the ball, as the captain was walking her back to her chamber, Arwen had asked. She could still now remember that Tauriel had described herself as “honoured” to be asked.

            After a good night’s sleep, filled with excitement and anticipation, Arwen had put on her training suit –that she always carried around with her, because ‘you can never know what might come up’- and gone up to the training quarters. Once there, she had not made her presence known straight away, but had found a spot up above from which she could look down upon the guards’ morning training session. Her eyes had then swiftly scanned through the crowd of elves down below and it had not been long before she spotted the captain, her long red hair dancing as she moved around. Tauriel was so lithe, nimble –and yet so strong- that she turned down her opponents effortlessly, wave after wave, without ever losing speed or power, like a tornado of fire and blades.

            Arwen could have stayed up there watching for hours, but she knew that soon people would start worrying about her whereabouts and would come looking for her. Moreover, as much as she wanted to stay there, she also vividly desired to start her lessons –the concept of those one-on-one lessons both terrified her and filled her with excitement. So, eventually, she had come down to meet her destiny. So far, her destiny felt pretty good.

 

            “How do you feel about swords?” asked Tauriel as she walked back towards Arwen, two swords in hand. “I’m not very fond of them myself, but I know that many people are. And anyway, I’m going to make you try several weapons so as to find your strengths and weaknesses.”

            “Swords are my favourite” said Arwen, taking one of the blades that Tauriel was holding and slowly running her fingers from hilt to tip.

            “Okay then. Let’s have it”

            And so the clanging of weapons started echoing through the room again, only this time the sounds had obviously more of a metallic nature.

            Arwen had always loved swords. She felt swords were noble, powerful, and could be used to attack just like to defend oneself. A sword was always a solid weapon you could trust.

            Tauriel, on her side, had always disliked swords. She felt they were heavy, slow to handle, and let’s not forget they could never be half as accurate or precise as a good dagger. She had never been able to pull off anything correct in battle with a sword. And yet, she could not help but feel full of admiration every time she had the chance to see her king Thranduil wielding his two swords at once, dancing with them, lithe and strong.

            Now she felt the same way once more watching Arwen giving her a hard time. Tauriel might be a much more skilled fighter in general –which compensated for her lack of skills with a sword-, she could see that Arwen had the upper hand, and had she not been allowed to dodge, she would have lost quite some time ago.

            After quite a while, and seeing that none of them seemed to be able to fully defeat the other, the captain called for a break.

            “Alright,” she said, “I’m definitely putting swords as your strength.” She saw a smile of modest pride draw up on the princess’ lips. She unconsciously returned the smile.

            Tauriel took the two swords and went to put them away. “Now we’ll try another classic, and my personal favourite...”

            Arwen, even though the red-hair had her back turned, could easily guess the grin on the other elleth’s face. “Daggers, I guess?”

            “Exactly” answered the captain, walking back to her with four training daggers. Arwen pouted her lips, in an expression somewhere between doubt and worry. “Come on, Princess, I just need to see the depth of your skills.”

            “I’m not sure I have any depth in that department” she answered jokingly as she took a dagger in each hand.

            Tauriel did everything she could to hold back her strength, but the princess did a poor job at defending herself round after round, and it never took more than a couple of seconds for her to end up disarmed and exposed.

            “I reckon I’ll put the daggers under ‘weakness’ then” said Tauriel as she picked up the fallen long knives and turned around to put them away. Once she had set them down, she added “So now, I was thinking –“

            “Hold on” interrupted Arwen, “I have an idea.” The redhead turned around with one eyebrow raised. The black-haired elleth spinned around towards her end of the room where she had set something down on the floor when she had first come in.

 

            Tauriel could still remember how she had felt that very morning when Arwen had walked in the room. Before that, she had just been attending a regular and fruitful morning training session with other members of the guard. She had felt excited and glad that the princess had asked her for private lessons. What an honour!

            Then, her friend Naruon had come to interrupt her training and to inform her that “Princess Arwen is here, Captain”. Tauriel had then looked to where he was pointing and seen the princess waiting for her, a package in her right hand and a large smile on her face. Arwen was wearing a training suit of course, not an evening gown, and yet for some reason it had surprised and struck Tauriel almost as much as if the princess had come down here holding hands with an orc. The captain had felt breathless and she had felt that fire within once more. This was a terrible idea. Why had she ever accepted? This would be the end of her. (Why were those training suits so skin-tight?)

            Eventually she had straightened herself up, had walked up to the princess before taking her –over the course of a delightful chatter- to the private training room. She had let Arwen in first, before taking a deep breath and getting in herself, and she had felt it was the first step to her destiny. So far, her destiny felt pretty good.

 

            Arwen walked back to her carrying a sword. The blade was gorgeous, lean and strong, made of the precious elven metal, the hilt ornamented and carved.

            “This is my sword. I’ve had it for a very long time, and my fighting skills don’t get any better than when I am with it.”

            Tauriel took some more time to admire the blade. “It’s... gorgeous. But, it’s still a sword, and we’ve covered that already. Or... Do you want me to go and get a sword again? Is that your revenge for me beating you with the daggers?”

            “No. And yes.” Tauriel raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it is a form of revenge for you –let’s say things as they are- completely making a fool out of me with the daggers.” she said giggling. “And no, I don’t want you to take a sword. I want you to take...” she put her sword back in its sheath by her side and reached out to grab the hilts of Tauriel’s daggers, thus resting her hands on the captain’s hips for a moment, before slowly drawing the two daggers and presenting them to their owner. “... these.”

            During those few seconds, Tauriel had felt her heart drop in her chest and a drop of sweat running down her neck, but this had nothing to do with the physical exercise. She did her best to conceal her sudden change and managed a vague, unassured smile with a “Sure”. She didn’t say anything longer lest her voice should tremble.

            With their weapons of choice in hand, now the real challenge began. They soon engaged, both with a joyful smile and a sharp –yet somewhat pensive- mind, never letting the other out of sight.

            While fighting, Arwen could not help but think back on Tauriel’s reaction to her, erm, daggers-grabbing motion. She had not really meant anything by it, but the captain had seemed distressed. Was it good, attraction-related distressed? Or had she imagined everything and it was rather a polite reaction to a need of yelling this was highly inappropriate of her to do that, and that she was just being a cocky, proud princess? Arwen did not know, and the thoughts in her mind kept on brawling over the question, while her eyes firmly remained on the creature who was the cause of the fuss in her brain.

            While fighting, Tauriel had steadily kept her eyes on the princess as well, when she had an epiphany. She realised she was so absorbed by the beauty, grace, and elegance of her opponent, that she was being unconsciously slower and much less effective than usual. And so she suddenly understood why she found killing orcs such an easy task to perform.

 

            Eventually, the moment came when they realised it had to be past midday and that they should stop for now, both of their presence being required elsewhere shortly –and none of them had even eaten yet, but it seemed this detail had very much slipped their mind with all the fun they were having.

            “Can we do this again tomorrow morning?” asked Arwen.

            “As you wish, Princess.”

            “Don’t call me ‘Princess’. Please, call me Arwen. I don’t want you to think of me as some sort of royal superior.”

            “But –“

            “Every time you call me ‘Princess’ from now on when we are just the two of us together, I will call you Captain Red.”

            Tauriel’s eyes suddenly widened before they both started laughing.

            “Then, this won’t happen again, Arwen, I promise.”

            “That’s more like it. Oh, and Tauriel, please don’t hold back next time, I’m sure I could still take it even if you came at me harder.”

            _I’m not holding back, you’re just dazzling me into a numb, slow version of myself_ thought the redhead. “You sound awfully bossy for someone who insists on me not calling her by her title.”

            “Do I? Well, I’m sorry. Princess habits I guess... I’m not sure.” She made a slight pause. “I’ll be going now, or else my father will start asking questions. See you tomorrow!” she said with a large grin as she exited the room, light as a bird.

            Tauriel quickly put everything back in order in the room before going back to her regular daily routine.

            Both of them spent the rest of their day somewhat absent-mindedly. They could not wait for some more strains and metallic clang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it, and if you feel like leaving a comment I'd really appreciate it, and I'll try to answer it as soon as I can!  
> If you have any questions about this story or requests for me to try and work on, I'd be glad to hear it, so do not hesitate to leave it below!  
> (Please do not replicate this work elsewhere)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it, and if you feel like leaving a comment I'd really appreciate it, and I'll try to answer it as soon as I can!  
> If you have any questions about this story or requests for me to try and work on, I'd be glad to hear it, so do not hesitate to leave it below!  
> (Please do not replicate this work elsewhere)


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